


Through a world gone blind.

by Nooneasks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark Souls (Video Game) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Author has chose to change some things to better fit certain characters and narrative, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Choas Witch! Osamu, Despair, Eingyi! Riseki, Fair lady! Atsumu, For dark souls that is., I'm Bad At Tagging, Knight of thorns! Sakusa, M/M, No happy ending., Not Beta Read, Possive Sakusa, Pyromancer! Sakusa, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nooneasks/pseuds/Nooneasks
Summary: A Dark Souls 1 au that I didnt think would be that long.Atsumu as the Fair/white lady and Sakusa as Kirk, The Knight of Thorns."Watching it writhe about, clutching it's chest, Sakusa mimics the gesture himself, frowning. Heart beating wildly."
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Through a world gone blind.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Gabi's [tweet here](https://mobile.twitter.com/talkativewyvern/status/1364645500939599874)
> 
> Very self Indulgent. 
> 
> Not sorry at all.

Fire crackled near him, enchanting him to draw closer. Sitting up, he gripped his aching head tightly.

Where was he?

This was not the previous bonfire he had been too.

The last thing he remembered was entering that damn detestable swamp. The poisoned water soaking through his clothes and skin, sinking into his blood slowly. Searching for a rumored firekeeper there for humanity and souls. Finding a tunnel behind the withering corpse of a monstrosity. Collapsed, hand reaching out, as if to crawl to somewhere.  
To something.  
To someone.

With shaky steps and blurry vision, he stumbled past. Lungs growing heavy. Each breath being knocked from him with each footstep. From the small room, he walked past the aged bell. Pulled a strange lever, and found a steep set of stairs spiralling down. Falling the last few. Chin bouncing against hot stone. He struggled up.

Fire.  
Warmth.  
Light.  
He needed a bonfire.  
He could heal. Rest. And escape this hellish nightmare for a brief moment. Saving himself from having to repeat another death cycle.

His hand axe drags as he goes, saving his strength, just in case he needed to fight. Using the other hand, he steadied himself, comforted by the pulse of flame in it. Vision growing darker the further in he went. Fingers dragging across sharp stone, till it hit something soft, and pulsing.

It felt hairy?  
Was it moss, perhaps?

No it couldn't be, this felt alive, like an animal would be. Blood pumping underneath. Rising and falling as if it was breathing.

Jerking away he fell back into the other wall making the narrow hall. Causing him to choke and gasp as more precious air left his lungs, leaving a cold slimy feeling. His vision whites briefly, but when it blinks back in he can hear the tell-tell sound of a crackling. Hobbling back around, he was filled with hope. Just a few more steps and he could heal himself in front of the small dying embers.

He sighed as he reached an entryway, bonfire tantalizingly in the middle. Folding his finger around the warm stones, he pulled himself in, only to pause in fear.

Before the flaming sword was a similar looking being to the dead one upstairs. Bandaged and praying.  
Was this the rumored firekeeper?  
Or was it foe?

This close to death he couldn't risk it, his watery brain concluded. Poison clouding his logic, and making stupid decisions seem reasonable. Stomping and tumbling forward, he raised his axe to strike it down. But his vision had blacked.

Succumbing to his arrogance, Sakusa Kiyoomi, the Thorn Crested Pyromancer of the Dark Wraith Covenant, had passed out.

Shaking his head, he cleared the memories from his brain and carefully stood up. Hand finding his axe resting nearby, leaning against a wall. Faintly visible in a soft familiar orange light. Looking down a fuzzy tunnel, the same bonfire was there. Just from a different angle. Cautiously he made his way towards it. Weapon raised as he scouted every corner for movement. Pausing to study the strange wall decoration, now that his mind was free from the poison.

It seemed to be a pelt? But it moved as if it was a living thing, jerking when he brushed his hand over it. Glancing around he found the head, fox-like in shape. Connecting with its eyes, they suddenly rolled around wildly until they found his, staring. A dying spark of life in them that felt too similar to his own reflection's. He stepped away cautiously, feeling sick suddenly. Quickening his step to reach the bonfire.

Entering the room once again, now on the other side, the damned creature was still there. Twitching pelts piled in an alcove behind and around it. Stepping further in, he bent forward slowly, touching the sword without taking his eyes off of it. But it didn't react, still shuddering in pain. Lips moving quietly as it uttered words into its clasped hands.

Standing up, Sakusa observed it in sick fascination. Carefully moving closer.

The upper half of the creature was human from the waist up. With fine pale blond hair and pallid demeanor, it had a haunting beauty to it. Though it was hard to tell as much of it's soft face was bandaged. At first glance it appeared to be wearing a huge demon fox pelt. But looking closer it was attached, morphed and bonded. Deforming the once handsome person underneath. The top jaw was a perverse veil of sorts while the lower slowly blended into shoulders, the bottom row of teeth sinking down into a collarbone. Acting as a horrific necklace. Below the human waist was a graying and matted fox body, similar to the smaller skins surrounding it. Rotting and twitching.

As he reached out, cloudy eyes on the fox's head jerked around. Causing the once human part to look up, appearing to listen.

Weakly it spoke. But the words seemed to flow out of his ears like water. Garbled and muted. Hands blindly reaching out. Bandaged eyes uselessly looking around.  
With its head raised, Sakusa could see humanity writhing under it's exposed chest. This was the rumored firekeeper then.

Raising his axe to swing down, his goal found, a hand slapped against his chest. making Sakusa hesitate. Slowly it slides up searching, till it cupped his cheek. Seemingly unaffected by the mottled of thorns sewn into the hard leather. Bleeding ignored. The beautiful pale face of the human part smiled up at him warmly. Lips slightly stained, sliver of teeth blackened by sludge. The translucent skin around its mouth has dark veins bloom out underneath, a disgusting swamp green.

"He saved you, you know."

Slowly he turns his head, still posed to strike. Magicked hand glowing red in threat. In the corner, a hunched shadow that appeared to be a fox too at first, moved. But as it stepped further into the lit room, it was actually one of the pelts on a human. The cursed man crawled almost on all fours towards the pyromancer. Heaving heavily. The demonic coat on his back bloated and twitching. Making Sakusa widen his eyes in fear and disgust.  
As it speaks once again, the head framing around the man's face speaks too.

"My Fair Sire saved your life. Just as he saved mine. Found my just sire reaching out, down towards you. I helped him hold you as he sucked the poison out."

Looking back, the cold hand is still cupping his cheek, rubbing small circles into it. Jerking away, the human face morphs into a small frown, and hesitantly it folds its hand against where a lap should be. It mouthing something before resigning itself to assumed loneliness with a deep sigh.

"Why should I care."

The other creature huffs, angry and indignant.

"Because doing so has caused my dear master more pain. Wasted on an undead like yourself. If you don't want to be struck down, I would lower your weapon."

Sakusa scoffs at that. Sarcastic and prideful. The firekeeper hears them talking but it seems not too well. Possibly unable to speak their tongue. It tilts it's head, confused, but quickly goes back to whispering what appears to be prayers. Softly flinching in pain every now and then.

Watching it twitch, Sakusa slowly starts to frown.

The damn thing was nearly dead it seemed. Easy to kill. But the thought of going through with it gave him a sour feeling.

The firekeeper's supposed servant lets out a held breath as he cools his pyromancy. With a distrustful face, it steps around Sakusa, giving him a wide circle of distrust. Never letting it's back face the prickly pyromancer. Till the thing was now the one in front of the corrupted blonde.

Kneeling, it raised both palms up, humanity within them. The firekeeper curiously moved about, absorbing the dark substance. Letting out a noiseless sigh of relief, before softly smiling. Hands wildly searching around. Flailing for the other's, grabbing the servant's hand tightly, when he bumps into them. Pulling them up to rest them against his forehead, before resting them against his chest. A familial gesture of thanks.

As the servant walks away, the lonely sadness on its face comes back, but it seems a little lighter. Something squeezes in Sakusa's chest. The follower slowly sits down, clawed covered hands twitching, ready to strike. Watching Sakusa in a glare.

Sitting in front of the bonfire and the creature, Sakusa rested too, watching with new eyes.

The next time he comes back, the firekeeper seems worse. The follower is there fretting about, freezing when Sakusa walks in. He doesn't move to stop the pyromancer from sitting down, but his tightly held fists scream of silent threats if he tries anything once again. Distracted when his master heaves a crackling deep breath. The bottom half's paws twitching before falling lifeless. The handsome face of the former human is twisted in pain. Now instead of soft pants it gasps in rough inhales. Desperate for air. Blonde hair falls across it's sweating face. The shuddering and twitching pelts are barely moving around it.

While the undead rested, a lesser monster crawled in, wearing a skin like the follower. Except more distorted. Seemingly almost completely merged with it. Rushing, the dark wraith sat up on his knees, hands glowing with flame, ready to strike the wayward creature down. But it ignores him, its bulging eyes focused elsewhere. Dragging across the floor, it touches a blackened hand gently on the firekeeper's lower half. The other follower moves to quickly grip it's hand from the brittle fur. It still pulls patches out just by brushing against it.

The blonde being jerks back scared before quickly reaching out. Gripping the poor damned thing. With help from it's follower, it hugs the poisoned thing. Pressing its lips against a wrist, biting down. It gags and chokes as it desperately tries to save it. Black blood slipping down its chin.

But it's pointless.

As it's follower drags the lifeless thing out the left over pelt drags itself towards the mourning firekeeper's face. Reaching up, digging it claws in to climb up. With careful movements, it rocks the living skinned fur, petting it. Tears soaking the disgusting bandages around its eyes. Soon that shudders and dies too.

The blonde silently cries, in sorrow and pain. The sucked poison affecting its system now, along with grief. Sakusa watched helplessly. Not even able to make a single screamed plea out, no matter how hard he listened. The sounds would coldly pour out before his brain could process them. Watching it writhe about, clutching it's chest, Sakusa mimics the gesture himself, frowning. Heart beating wildly.

Is that what it suffered for him. Saving a cursed soul like him.

When the follower comes back, the thorned man is standing in front of the firekeeper, hands raised to touch it but frozen mid-air. It rushes forward to shove him away, regardless of injury.

"Why did it do that?"

Fumbling around once the man was a safer distance away, it sadly stated "Because my master is too kind. He cares deeply for others, helping any soul who seems more unfortunate than him. Even if it will further his suffering."

Sakusa hums. Still staring at the tight expression of grief painting the other's face. Chest caving in on itself.

Quickly shuffling forward, the follower offers a few humanities. With each passing glow, it's suffering eases but not by much. Panting its cries that are heard by no one now. Forehead pinched in pain, hands wiping at escaping tears. Confusedly looking around, hands trying to find someone to know that it's not alone.

"Does that help?"

Looking back, the sentient monster sighs deeply before nodding. Confirming clearly with "Yes. It seems to heal my Fair Sire. Or at least lessen his pain."

Stepping forward, Sakusa offers "I have some to spare."

The eyes on the pelt's head narrows in suspicious judgement. "If you wish to offer him some, I will only allow it if you promise yourself to my dear sire."

Sakusa hesitates there.

He would have to abandon the Dark Wraiths, along with his chance at power and the possibility at finding a way to lift this undying curse.

Frowning, he started to step back, ready to retract his offer when the firekeeper's head jerked up wildly, looking at the pelts. One of them behind it flinches and seizes wildly before going still. A drop of noise falls from its lips as it helplessly fumbles around touching them randomly, one by one. Coughing and sobbing harder.

The undead's chest is filled with spikes, mimicking the pain his armour inflicts. Poking into the muscle that pumps his blood as it expands in emotions he didn't think he would be capable of anymore. Flooding his chest in warm red. Stepping forward, he bows his head, hands clasped, hissing his promise in rock steady confidence. The faint light of magic fills the room. Quickly the pyromancer offers the humanity on him to the sickly distressed being. The blonde seems to shudder less with each breath as he goes. But it's face is still contoured in grief, mouth flooding his ears with panicked trickles of sound.  
Slipping his gloves off, to not accidentally hurt it, he gently touches it face to wipe a drop of escaping liquid rolling down. It wraps it's hands around his and cries harder silently, nails digging in, as it squeezes in emotions.

Sakusa felt his face dip as he studied it. A confused emotion washing over him. Growing as a thumb moved across the back of his hand.

After the firekeeper had calmed down he moved away, pulling his hands back slowly. Wearily it nodded it's head as he did so. Resigning itself to lost loneliness once again, with one last squeeze around his fingers before letting go.

An annoyed huff comes from behind him.

The self proclaimed servant welcomes him with a jealous grumble. Explaining the nature of the covenant as he scuffles around. Sakusa and him are one of the few followers left. For most part, they are a weak and scattered group compared to the other covenants. Obviously trying to make the taller man leave.

Watching the ethereal face of the firekeeper lean down, whispering prayers, highlighted by the bonfire, Sakusa assured him that was fine. He would carry this group on his back, if he had too.

That earns him a glare. Not happy to hear his new found commitment. Later after much silence and sulking, the follower finally gives Sakusa his name.

Riseki.

Sitting down across from him, Riseki tells the newly added member their master's supposed story. At least he tries to piece together a story for the pyromancer. Pausing to think over words as he obviously omits information, still quite distrustful of the former dark wraith.

Over the cracking flames he hears how the firekeeper was one of the children of the Witch of Izalith, cursed and bound to a demon when his mother used her soul to try and recreate the first flame. Made a keeper later by another escapee to keep him alive after he healed the poisoned servants who followed them through the blighted waters, seeking refuge. Listening, Sakusa wondered if maybe the blonde was trying to atone for mistakes he had no control over. But even then 'The Fair Sire' seemed to wear his heart out in the open. A kind soul quickly burning out in this doomed world.

Finishing the story, the shuffling servant lets him be finally. Giving the pyromancer the opportunity to contemplate his rash actions and strange new found feelings. Justifying them as acts to preserve a forebear of his craft, compelled by his flame to replay the godmother of pyromancy back by protecting her child. Feeling confident in that reason. But deep down he knew that was a flimsy excuse to hide his fast beating heart behind.

When the firekeeper starts to cough, hours later, Sakusa gets up, promising to return with more humanity. Riseki waves him off with a clipped farewell.

Wandering away, he was pleased to see his cracked eye orbs light back up in startling red. Pulling one of the many he had, the now former wraith crushed it to dust between his fingers.

Seeking out a follow undead to rob.

Returning, Riseki greets him in a huff as Sakusa hobbles in, injured but for the most part, still alive somehow this life. Tapping the sword briefly, Sakusa moves to stand before the firekeeper. Offering the plundered humanity. When he steps back, the monstrous pelted man moves to stand beside him, nodding with a pleased glint. Their master speaks in a babbling brook tone, giddy at the large offering amount, before frowning as he only feels empty air in front of him. He pulls back pouting, clasping his hands to pray once again with a rise of his shoulders, sulking. The dark green veins around his mouth now a teal-ish blue, and his skin had a slight flush across it.

Sitting by the fire, Riseki offers to upgrade his flames that night. Telling him in a clipped tone "Anything for our Fair Sire."

The next time Sakusa comes back, he walks in with long strides, proud of another large haul. He's uninjured this time, but weary from multiple rebirths.

Sadly though it seems that the same could not be said for the firekeeper. Blacken blood slides down from a cut on his wrist. Riseki is struggling to reach the injured wrist that the blonde seems unaware of.

Glaring, the taller member shoos the other away. Pulling his armor off as he moves forward. Offering humanity, he gains the blonde man's attention, enough for him to reach out, seeking contact. Gripping the hurt wrist gently, he starts to wrap it in spare bandages. The firekeeper seems ecstatic at the touch. A bright smile gracing his face. As Sakusa works, a hand brushes against his head. Gently patting him. Smoothing the unruly curls back. Talking away mutely. Riseki lets out an indignant squawk at the scene. Making the pyromancer smirk with a quick snort, exposed cheeks a soft pink. There's a bubbling sound that makes both men look up, realizing that their dear master was laughing. But soon that turns into rough hacking. Haggard and deep looking.

Before he leaves, Sakusa tries to tell the beautiful firekeeper his name.

"My name is Sakusa Kiyoomi. Sakusa. Kiyoomi."

"O-...."

"Sakusa. Kiyoomi."

"O-....?"

The prickly man frowned, but took it.

Being greeted that way, each time he gave the blonde more humanity from then on.

As he dwindled through his stash of cracked red eye orbs, he made a point to come back more. Taking shorter trips. Soon changing that to returning after each hunt. Just to hear that one understandable letter. Chest being stabbed over and over again in tight pangs of yearning. Pining away at each bonfire that wasn't in the dim radiance of his sweet master. The muted flames not as warm or as tempting as those tended to by the firekeeper.

Trekking back from another failed attempt, he wondered if he was starting to become a mindless lost soul. It was the future most undead faced. More he thought about it, the more he believed it to be true.

He had been dying quite a lot lately. His mind must have fractured with each loss of himself. It would explain his sudden obsession plaguing his mind. Filled with thoughts of only the cursed blonde. Alone, blind and unable to speak. Curious hands wandering about. Searching for a presence to let him know that he wasn't alone.

Frustrated, he pressed his flamed tinted hand into an eye.

His foggy mind concluded that 'his' Fair Sire wouldn't be safe in Riseki's hands if that was starting to become the case. He had to stay sane.

That night when he returned. Riseki told him about a secret passage.

"The same tunnel our Fair Sire used to escape Izalith when the bed of chaos formed. Along with another of his brotherhood members. Perhaps you could find some interesting pyromancies there. Stronger than the ones I have here."

Taking the directions, Sakusa set out immediately. Killing strange things along the way. More damned and mind boggling than before. Chaos incarnated truly. Dying over and over again gruesomely. Thoughts of the firekeeper keeping him moving.

Returning hopelessly with little to show. Most of his haul consisting of a strange glowing helm that wiggled and pulsed, small legs shaking, seeking a host. A ring that allowed him to bear even greater temperatures than before. And a few chunks of Titanite. But no humanity or pyromancies. Sensing his wavering resolve, Riseki suggested he travel to lands he once haunted. A respite from the torturous cycle of deaths he encountered in the Izalith ruins.

Nodding solemnly, he agreed. Gently saying goodbye to the, once again, sickly firekeeper. Who weakly reached out slowly. Registering the quick brush against his cheek finally, as the pyromancer watched from the entryway. Unable to even utter even a drip of his confusing tongue.

He still had a few more cracked orbs saved. Hesitant to use them, as each return seemed to drain more resolve from him. Win or lose. Was it because Sakusa was no longer a dark wraith?

It didn't matter.

If he has to, he will use them.  
Consequences be damn.  
As Riseki once put it.

"Anything for our Fair Sire."

He returned finally after what seemed like years. With found humanity ripped from bloated rats. Diseased and unfit for his master, but it would do for now. Mind rushing to hearing those confusing watery words. Heart aflame. Burning hotter then any fire he could conjure. Coaxing him from the dark greater than any bonfire. More tempting than the first flame was ever said to be.

He paused in the hall. Surprised to see the firekeeper moving, color flooding his cheeks. Leaps and bounds better than when the undead left. Muted voice flowing over him. Soaking it in.

There was no way Riseki could gather that much humanity in his state. He was lucky to even find one.

How?

Stepping behind him, said follower hobbled up, random items precariously held.

"A beautiful sight isn't it." The man sighed.

Sakusa agreed silently. Jaw clenched.

"A new undead joined us while you were away. Feeding our sweet sire. Healing him greatly."

He should be happy to see the handsome face calm. No longer troubled by pain. But instead he is filled with darkness and cold. Tempted to crush an orb there, hoping to find the wayward stranger so the pyromancer could slay them.

The unworthy scum.

Cupping his face, he dug the metal tips of his gloves into his skin to ground himself.

The toll of Izalith must have been still affecting him.

Stepping into the room, he sank before the fire and his master, watching fondly. Trying to bury the maddening anger he held for the stranger. The blonde tilted his head curiously. Seemingly even healed enough to hear the scrape of his armor against stone. Riseki joined him soon. Sitting nearby as they both listen to the trickling prayer the firekeeper muttered. Intangible but captivating. Hanging off every demure sound.

Letting it fade to the background, Sakusa shared his new finds with the other.

As he pulled out an aged useless ring, the servant grabbed his wrist in awe. Noting in ecstatic shock, that the faded engraving looked similar to the pyromancies that their kind master used to hand out. Confused Sakusa took another look at it. He could feel no strange thrum of energy within the rusted red metal.

Curious, he slipped his glove off, sliding the calloused dented ring on, once again.

He didn't feel any different. There was no snap, pulse or shock of energy.

What a pointless endeavor.

He almost pulled the ring off, just as the watery words soon entered his ears again. But clearer and solid. Finally able to truly pick them up. Tangible.

He could finally hear the firekeeper's true voice.

Unable to speak. Voice held captive by his heart. Wishing to be surrounded by the weary boyish voice. Soften by time and cracked by lingering aching pain.

Something emerges from his vocal cords.

"Hello."

The other's head jerks up suddenly. Chest rapidly rising and falling, hesitantly starting to say. "O-"

His name, surely this would be his name, his shattering mind hoped. Some part of it at least. A reward for all his troubles.

"Osamu…?"

He could feel every resolve break within him. Who was this? Rage clawing to have him burn everything. Unworldly jealousy taking over.

"Brother? Osamu is that you? Please…."

Oh.

Just as quickly as it sparked up, it cooled. Leaving guilt. His kind master's breaking voice ripping him apart greater than any sword or claw has.

" I'm-"

"Samu! You're safe."

The voiced relief stops him from explaining further. Just warm from hearing the lilt of joy in that raspy sullen voice. Unable to bring any more pain to this kind soul. He swallows.

"I'm here.

A soft smile graces the face before him. In breathtaking brilliance. Flickering and warm like a flame. Pulling back, he looked down, slowly dragging his hand across his skull. Wondering if he was already lost. Mind gone. This seemed too unreal. Surely he had turned, and this was just a figment of his imagination.

"Samu, I'm sorry."

Sakusa jerked up, the tremble in that soft voice tugging him like a puppet closer. Hands raised, held back at the fragility of raw grief before him. Afraid that touching something so pure would taint it.

The firekeeper folded his arms in, hugging himself as its monstrous lower half twitched. Jerking to life briefly.

"The furs you collected, the humanity left in them… they have gone still. I-I cant no longer… What was left of Izalith that you collected has… I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry my dear twin. I promised you I would keep them safe."

With trembling hands, the pyromancer clasped them around the shuddering figure's. Pulling them carefully to his still covered chest. Holding them tightly. He mutters into them. Guilt weighing heavy on his mind.

"It's okay. As long as you are safe."

One hand pulls away, carding careful fingers through his hair, genuine words comforting him. The last person needing it.

"I'm okay. I will always be when I have you dear brother. Please be careful. Promise me?"

With a soft squeeze he pulled away. Falsely assuming a dead man's wishes.

"I will."

The broken pained smile felt like knives to his heart. Reminding him that this moment was a farce. A cruel lie.

Riseki made his presence known then, squawking with his eyes locked onto the ring around his finger.

"You can speak the Sire's tongue."

Pulling his hand back, holding it away from the glaring former human. He snapped.

" 'I' can now."

The other frowned, shuffling away at the veiled threat in the undead's tone. The pelt he was feeding his life to, growled in disdain. Leaving Sakusa alone with their kind master. Entranced and taken. Cold eyes boring into the unaware man. Dark thoughts swirling around.

He left the small room that night heading up. Face casted in hellish light as he climbed the stairs. The orange glow from the ruined lands of Izalith pronouncing his gaunt cheeks more. Riseki coerced into trailing behind him, struggled up.

Reaching the landing, he impatiently picks up his fellow covenant member. Pulling him to the now almost skeletal corpse he saw when stumbling first through.

"Do you know him?"

"That was Osamu. A member of our sweet master's former brotherhood."

"He's actually our master's twin."

A sympathetic noise leaves the hunched figure's throat. Quickly shuffling forward as if he could put the poor soul's body to proper rest. Hands held loftily in awkward disbelief. Just as hungry as Sakusa was to repay the firekeeper somehow.

"Do you know who did this?"

"N-no."

"What about a way to find who did?"

Looking around, Riseki turns in a circle slowly.

"I-I'm not sure. Several have passed through here. I can only offer that you watch the phantoms of old lives passed, they might tell you."

Nodding his head, Sakusa turned to leave, pausing to ask.

"The new recruit...what do they look like?"

Trekking back to the start of his journey, Sakusa began again with a new goal. To hunt down the killer of his Fair Sire's twin. Cutting down everything in his path. If they were not the killer, then any humanity on them could go towards his frail master. Keeping the constantly returning affliction at bay. Soft conversations and touches made out of lies his only light. Keeping him from completely losing himself.

When he finally sees the other undead who has been 'so' kind to donate to 'his' Fair Sire, the pyromancer immediately teleports to the scum, to hopefully rob him of everything.

A phantom that perfectly matches the 'supposed' mage's description runs past in the depths underneath Lordran. It doesn't even make it to the next hallway before his hand crushes one of his last three red orbs he has. Desperate that the man was still nearby. Red filled his vision. Grinning as he sinks down.

Pulling himself from the opening, coated in dark energy, he rushed at the mage. Murderous that fool would try to win the kind firekeeper's heart, the same one his fraying mind assured was his alone to have. He sacrificed so much. And felt so much. And the keeper in return gave so much back to him too.

Rolling he's able to land hard hits on the surprised mage. Thorns ripping into cloth and skin. But now the stranger was ready, keeping his guard up. Repelling and side stepping each wild swing of Sakusa's hand axe. Reaching out with a flame covered hand, he significantly burns the mage. But this leaves his side open for attacks.

Cold magic hits there. Dropping him to his knees in pain. The other undead wastes no time casting a stronger spell as he tries to get up. But it's too late. Dying as he tries to outcast with a pyromancy, just too slow.

Sinking down, he wakes up from nothingness in front of soft orange flames. Weak and cold. Defeat weighing heavily on his breaking mind.

He gives up wasting another orb to try again. Returning to his only solace to lick his wounds.

Riseki gives him a sad look. As he passes. Softly requesting "Please try to come back more often, the Sire gets lonely when you're gone. And I can only help so much without being able to speak his tongue."

Sakusa sends a withering look, but nods. It causes the smaller man to shrink back uncharacteristically. Frowning, the pyromancer gently touches his face, metal bouncing over ridges as he runs it across. Pulling off a glove to check his hand, He was greeted to a red rotting color, rather than his normal pale skin. Leathery and rough.

When did he become like this?

He hesitates talking to the firekeeper. But the blonde couldn't tell. Grasping his cheeks gently to bring their foreheads together. Before letting him up with a sad sigh. Moving to brush his hair back with a smile.

Was his sense of touch gone too?

"Samu? What's wrong?"

Sakusa blinks. Bringing his hand up to pull the blonde's away. When they bump together, the firekeeper clumsily wraps it around his, squeezing it. The fingertips are slippery with wetness. Making the undead take his other hand to touch his check experimentally. It came back wet.

Tears?

"Don't cry Samu. It's okay. I'll be fine. See."

He couldn't say anything but nod. But still a sullen look paints the blonde's face at the silence.

"I will! I have you dear brother. Truly I'm happy. You'll always be there won't you?"

Sakusa nods again. Tightly squeezing his eyes before speaking in a cracked tone. Breaking and falling apart as he talks.

"Yes…I-....I will always be here."

Smiling, the blonde tugs him close. Wrapping his arms around the undead's back, embracing him in a warm hug. Gently shushing the pyromancer's shaking form. Sakusa's resolve hardeneds with each circle that's rubbed into his back, trying to comfort him.

That night Riseki cautiously approaches him, before sitting down to talk.

"I've heard rumors of a sword. That appears to be similar to Master Osamu's. Perhaps a blacksmith will have the answer you seek?"

Sacrificing humanity to himself, Sakusa thanked the hunched man. Running a hand across his face as he checks his newly soft skin over. Pleased to see he appears human once again. Riseki visibly relaxes at the action, but there is still a tightness in his form, ready to move if he needs to.

Before he leaves, he takes off the ring to say goodbye to his Fair Sire.

Taking a hand gently, he pressed it against his mouth, desperate to communicate his existence without giving up his charade.

"O-...?"

Whispering he pleads into a warm plam.

"My name is Sakusa Kiyoomi."

The keeper just repeats that damned sound. Trying to pull his hand out, to most likely comfort whom he assumed to be his brother. But Sakusa can't leave here like this. He doesn't have much will left, he realized. And he can't make himself leave until the blonde at least knows who he is.

Tightening his grip, Sakusa pulls the hand back to his lips. Begging. Something in his action must have communicated this because the other hand pulls towards the blonde's chest. While the still trapped one tugs to get out of his slowly bruising grip.

Letting it go, the firekeeper pulls back, hands pulled in to make himself smaller. Obviously scared. Sakusa's heart practically beats out of his chest, aching for multiple reasons.

"O-...! W-....?"

The presence of another manageable letter fills Sakusa with hope. Carefully he brushes a hand against a cheek, causing the other man to flinch away. That was fine, as long as he knew of 'Sakusa' and not just of the "Osamu' mask he wore. Capturing both hands, he dropped to his knees, holding them between his as he prayed for once. Filled with warmth that the Fair Sire knew of him.

The firekeeper doesn't try to pull his hands away surprisingly. Instead he looked down with a frown, head tilting to the side, trying to work out what was happening. When Sakusa lets go, the blonde reaches out to touch his head, trying to comfort the stranger, but the pyromancer stops him. Afraid his distinctive curls would give away the lie he has been playing.

Standing up, he parted away from his kind master with a quick chaste kiss. Greedy and selfish. High off the feeling that he was at least recognized. The blonde pulls back to touch his lips, before quickly swinging clumsy arms through the air. Searching for the already gone undead.

After much searching he finds a giant tinkering away in Anor Londo, who willingly parts in a childish speech, that he crafted a fine sword from a wonderfully chaotic soul. For a 'good friend'.

It takes everything in the pyromancer to hold himself back from ripping the jolly fool apart. Too sick mostly, realizing that the sword was made using his Fair Sire's dear brother's soul. Leaving, the sounds of a tapping hammer fading, his vision reddened around the edges. Thoughts repeating the same urge to kill, rip and maim everything in his path.

No amount of humanity fixes it. But his mind stills hold somehow. Soft pale lips and a beautiful pained voice waiting for him to return, the only light he has left. Flickering alone in the darkness, waiting for someone to kindly remind them that they weren't alone in this cursed infested world.

Following smokey trails and wispy rumors, he makes his way to the ruin lands of outside Izalith. Carefully watching the lumbering form of a twisted member of his sweet sire's brotherhood. Guarding the corpse of another. Molten confused tears endlessly falling.

Biding his time, Sakusa waits. The wretched undead will surely seek this place if he wishes to lift the curse. Prowling away, he sticks to the shadows, scrutinizing every remnant of lives passed that run through. Seeking the phantom that deserved justice.

He finds him soon after he slays the sorrowful giant. Plundering the corpse of the fallen brotherhood member. More and more crimes that Sakusa has to right. Heart breaking at how much this monster has taken from his unknowing master.

The same master who kindly saves any poisoned soul. Who prays endlessly. Who waits in darkness, blind to the gentle flames he keeps.

The red around his vision grows as he raises up. The second to last orb used. Mind flashing between images of that sweet ethereal face, and every pained word it has ever uttered.

Slashing, he cuts deeply into the turned back. Heaving a snarling laugh to himself. Feeling joy at the pain he caused. They parry the next block using that cursed sword. The thorned man's stomach lurching at being so close to it. Knowing who it once was, guilt churning at pretending to be them. Rolling, he dodges. Brushing against thinly protected legs. Leaving them bloody. 'Good' he thought, watching red stain the ground beneath. Burning print on the man's arm, he screams 'yes' in his head at the smell of charred skin. Growing more and more unhinged in sick giddy righteousness.

Sakusa oversteps, arrogantly swinging his axe, assured it would hit into neck. Fatally underestimating his opponent. A blue light ebbs along the red that plagues his sight. Magic courses through his chest. But undeterred he rushes forward, despite the freezing cold pain. The other undead is once again quicker, blocking his attack, stabbing into the pyromancer's gut. Ending this life.

Growling, he weakly spits out "no."

Fading away, he recognizes the face of his 'fellow' covenant member, just before black fills his vision.

The bastard.  
Sick and cruel.  
Did they join seeking atonement for their crimes? Or did they see it as a sick game? Parading around his kind sire, getting joy from the fact that the blonde would never know that humanity fed to him was gained using a perverse instrument made from his brother's soul.

Either way, he will rip the man's head off with his bare hands.

Waking up he breaks everything in the room with him. Screaming his anger out. The loss cutting Sakusa's frayed mind deep. Almost mad from the defeat, he can barely make himself leave. Seeking his Fair Sire out to remind him to hold on just a little more. Just one more try. One more orb left. He could surely do it after hearing his chilling voice once more. One last glance on that dimly enchanting face was all he needed. Soft in muted kindness.

Just a little more.

Then he could succumb to his fate. Knowing he avenged the only family his love had left.

Just...one...more...time.

Shuffling in, something felt off.

Riseki's heaving breaths were deeper and more haggard than usual. The beautiful watery prayers were silent. Rushing, Sakusa almost trips over Riseki's crumpled body. Weakly crawling towards the room that held their dear master. Carefully the pyromancer cradles his friend.

"W-...W-who did this?"

The dying man gazed forward, weakly whispering. Unable to see that it was Sakusa he was talking to. Glazed eyes dulling with each second.

"Betrayed….new...dark wraith….my dear sire…I'm sor..."

His reaching hand falls lifeless to the side as he exhales his last breath. Unable to finish his desperate apology.

Swallowing, Sakusa prays that what he fears isn't true. Almost unable to stand after carefully moving his fellow member to the side.

He feels cold tears fall as he walks forwards.

The bonfire is out at the end of the tunnel.

Mind pleading no, over and over again. Too broken to comprehend the possibility.

Stumbling in, he sees the slumped over body of his sweet master. Making him drop to his knees in disbelief. Crawling forward, he begged to the gods for this to be a cruel jest on their part. Taking one of the usually animated hands in his, he pressed the cold flesh to his lips. Praying. Wishing desperately to feel it clasp around his back. But nothing. No life. Just as still as the pelts around it.

Dead.

Carefully, he moves to cradle the human torso. Sobbing as he gently examines the hole left in his sweet sire's chest. Rocking the silent corpse, remembering the fleeting embrace it once wrapped around him.

Screaming and pleading alone in the dark.

When his tears have dried, he slowly stands up. Vision red. Anger burning him alive. Taking a metal clawed hand, he drags it down, cutting into his gaunt flesh. Letting blood rush down. Thoughts jumbled and useless, as the word kill, was the only thing in there.

So much he sacrificed.  
So much he gave.  
So much he had to say.  
So much love he held to give.

Gone.

His purpose was gone.

Pulling his hand back up he dug harder into his face, snarling. Scaring the rotting skin more.

No.

He still had revenge.

Picking up his axe, he promised to come back and lay them to rest.

Without looking back, the undead left.

Empty and desperate.

Knowing who to look for.

And where they would head next.

Standing in wait, the heat coming from the bed of chaos's ruin did nothing to warm him.

A phantom of the former member of their covenant runs past. Clutching that disgustingly made sword. Taking his last orb, he slowly crushes it. Head filled with thoughts of the man's mangled body. Burnt and unrecognizable. So destroyed, he would break just as Sakusa had.  
A mindless beast.

Crawling back. Wheezing. All he could think to do is give up whatever humanity he had to his Fair Sire.

He couldn't hear any more labor breathing. Smiling, the sweet blonde surely felt better now.

A red fog was the only thing he could see.

Frowning, he couldn't understand why hands don't reach for his.

Why didn't he speak?

Was the Fair Sire still not better.

Where was Riseki with some humanities?

Why was it so quiet?

Then he remembered.

They were all dead.

Crawling away, he dragged himself blindly till he hit a wall. Unable to face the reality behind him anymore.

Sitting against it, he pressed a flaming hand against his chest. Burning a hole into it, hoping to die finally. Unable to bear the thought of still living, even as a walking corpse, when his dear master and friend were dead. Smiling softly as he slipped away, he found strange comfort knowing that he physically reflected his mind and heart now.

Empty.

Just a hollow husk now.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I'm a little sorry.


End file.
